dark paradise
by missymeggins
Summary: She hears a voice, hears her name spoken softly in a way that sounds achingly familiar. / Post Emily Lake/Stand / Can act as a prequel to my story 'take me to the finish line'


_dark paradise_ | myka/h.g | r | written for Porn Battle with the prompt 'Survival' | Inadvertently works as a prequel to _take me to the finish line_

_._

_._

_._

When the Warehouse starts to reform around them, Myka's pulse begins to race and she closes her eyes, afraid to look at the resurrection occurring in front of her eyes because she knows what she wants to see – _needs to see – _but Artie has been very clear that he doesn't know the full extent of the Pocket Watch's properties. People may not be within it's grasp.

But then she hears a voice, hears her name spoken softly in a way that sounds achingly familiar.

So she opens her eyes, and Helena is standing in front of her smiling softly and Myka feels everything inside her break with the weight of her relief. She lets out a little sob and throws her arms around Helena, who holds her tightly, softly murmuring 'It's okay Myka, I'm here. It's _okay_.'

.

xxx

.

It's hours before everyone's finally settled back at the Inn for the night. Helena's back in her old room and Myka finds herself standing at her door, hesitating to actually knock because she doesn't truly know what she's even expecting from this meeting, but the door opens in front of her, to reveal Helena looking completely calm and unfazed by the day's events.

She stands aside, gesturing for Myka to come in. "Are you okay?" she asks softly.

Myka shakes her head and Helena looks at her with such concern that she ceases thinking and simply acts on impulse and does the one thing she hasn't bee able to stop thinking about since the moment Helena came back.

She kisses her. Myka threads her fingers through Helena's hair and presses her lips against Helena's, almost forcefully. Her hands rest on Helena's hips, uncertain still until Helena kisses her back and loops her arms around Myka's waist, pulling her closer so she can feel Helena's breasts pressed against her.

Kissing Helena isn't nearly enough though and her hands reach for Helena's pants. Helena breaks their kiss, pulling away slightly.

"Myka," she says softly, covering Myka's hands with her own, questions in her eyes.

"No," Myka says firmly, shaking her head at Helena and crushing their lips together once more.

(She can't do _words _in this moment. She just _can't. _There are things that need to be said, asked, she knows, but it's too much for her right now. It's easier to speak those truths in touch.)

"No," she whispers into Helena's lips, emotion crowding in her throat as she feels Helena's hands reaching to hold her face. Her fingers undo the button on Helena's pants and Helena doesn't question her again, just quickly steps out of them, kicking them away and reaching for Myka's own, popping the button and sliding them down Myka's legs for her.

Myka pushes them onto the bed, straddling Helena's waist as she tears at the buttons of her shirt, desperate to touch her, to feel the heat of her skin and truly _know _that she's here. She can feel herself actually shaking, and it's an overwhelming combination of desire, fear and what she's quite afraid might be _love_.

Helena holds her gently, fingers caressing her waist and she closes her eyes, allowing the gentle touch to calm her slightly.

But when she opens her eyes and sees Helena's face beneath her, eyes dark with desire, she loses all sense of calm and leans down to crush their lips together again, letting her tongue press insistently against Helena's mouth until she opens herself to Myka, kissing her back with equal passion.

Neither woman is calm now.

Myka pulls the straps of Helena's bra off her shoulder, shoving the whole garment down her body til her breasts are bare and Myka swipes her fingers around Helena's nipples, gratified by the moan it inspires and the way Helena breaks their kiss now to gently bite at Myka's neck.

"_Oh,_" she hears herself breathe, grinding her hips against Helena's, idly wondering how it could have taken them so long to do this.

(Myka thinks she could spend the rest of her life making love to Helena – and they've barely even begun.)

Helena's hands are pulling at her shirt now, unbuttoning it with slightly more restraint than Myka had used, then reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra, pressing a warm kiss to her shoulder as she does.

And when Helena's hands are finally on her, stroking her skin with sure fingers, it sends Myka spinning, to the point where all thought leaves her mind and she's not responsible for the moan that escapes her lips, loud and raw, "_Oh god Helena._"

(She can actually _feel _the smile on Helena's lips when she kisses her now.)

Helena tries to flip them over, but Myka won't let her and pushes her back back to the bed with more force than she even knew she was capable of, pulling Helena's arms behind her head and gripping her thighs around Helena even tighter.

(She can't bear to let Helena take control because she's afraid she'll be gentle in her passion; comforting, _loving. _Myka still isn't ready for that.)

Myka can barely control herself now, running her hands over Helena's body almost frantically, clutching at her breasts, running up the insides of her thighs, while she kisses – and sometimes licks – a path down her stomach that has Helena bucking her hips and panting breathlessly.

She pauses briefly at the smooth line of Helena's underwear where it intersects her pale skin; this is their last line to cross and even in her desperation Myka understands its significance. She feels a pressure in her chest that has nothing to do with how hard she's breathing, but is entirely emotional and she wants to drown it.

She decides that hearing Helena scream might just be the best way to do that. So she draws the underwear down Helena's legs, running her hands under her bare ass, encouraging Helena to part her legs while she kisses her pubic bone

The sounds that comes from Helena's lips now is entirely new and entirely without control.

(It doesn't drown the feeling in Myka's chest like she'd hoped but makes it expand inside her with a whisper in her head that sounds like _I love you._)

Myka edges lower, letting her tongue do the work now, pressing experimentally against Helena's clit – and then harder when she feels Helena's hand tangle in her hair and hears her voice breathe _Myka _like she can barely even speak.

Helena's hand plays in her hair, while the other clutches at the mattress and Myka swipes her tongue around Helena's clit, over and over until she's shuddering her release.

And when her breathing starts to even, her fingers find the warmth of Myka's cheek, stroking it softly as Myka continues kissing the inside of her thigh lightly.

"Myka," she whispers adoringly, chest still heaving as a content smile starts to spread on her face. Then she starts to speak again, and all she gets out is, "I..." but Myka can imagine how that sentence might end and she doesn't want it.

(Oh she _does _want it, she just doesn't know how to feel about how _desperately _she wants it. There's been too much turmoil in her head (_heart_) lately and she's afraid she might not survive if she lets it own her.)

So she crawls up Helena's body now, sliding between her legs, and kisses her deeply again, destroying any opportunity for Helena to speak at all. She'll keep her tongue in Helena's mouth all night if she has to.

But actually, it seems like she _doesn't _have to_. _Helena kisses back, biting at Myka's lip a little, soothing it with her tongue. She wastes no time trailing her hand down Myka's side, pushing it between their two bodies, past the elastic of Myka's underwear to find Myka wet and hot and so easy to slide her fingers into.

Myka bucks her hips and holds her breath as Helena starts to move inside her, stroking slowly but with pressure, curling her fingers ever now and then. Myka buries her head in the crook of Helena's neck, trying not to cry out because it's not just her physical pleasure, it's _everything _she's feeling in this moment and god knows what that might sound like spilling from her lips.

(_I love you I love you I love you._)

"Myka," Helena whispers again. She doesn't say anything else, just her name. Again and again, softly and sweetly, kissing Myka's lips between breaths, while her fingers work inside her. By the time Helena presses a thumb to her clit she's so close that all it takes is a few hard strokes and she's biting down on Helena's shoulder to stifle the cry that escapes her. Helena withdraws her hand and wraps her arms around Myka, holding her close til the shaking subsides.

After a minute, Myka rolls off her and lies on her back. They're silent until Myka says, "Turn around," and Helena does and Myka unhooks the bra that's still haphazardly slung around her waist, pulling it out from Helena and tossing it aside. She kisses the bare skin of her back, still warm, then slings an arm lightly over Helena's waist and holds her close, continuing to press little kisses to her shoulder until she hears Helena's breathing change as she falls asleep.

Then Myka extracts herself gently, finds a light blanket folded at the foot of the bed and covers Helena with it before pulling her clothes on and leaving silently.

(It won't be the last time they do this.)

.

xxx

.

In her room she strips again quickly, sliding under the familiar covers of her own bed and closing her eyes tightly, pretending that she can feel Helena beside her.

It doesn't feel the same. But it's also not as scary as the reality.

She sleeps.

.

.

.


End file.
